


The Wrong Idea

by stilldrivingaway



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Legends of Tomorrow spoilers, Not Beta Read, Short & Sweet, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilldrivingaway/pseuds/stilldrivingaway
Summary: John Constantine tries to convince himself he doesn’t care and that he’s not that serious about Zari.
Relationships: John Constantine/Zari Tomaz | Zari Tarazi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	The Wrong Idea

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Season 5 finale, which I loved but I just need so much more of (release the writers’ cut!). Basically all from John’s POV.
> 
> Inspired by 1) the adorable scene and absolute lightness and joy of the two of them dancing in the club; 2) Zari’s reaction to Behrad’s comment that she and John are a secret, which made me realize Zari (and probably John) thinks they’re being fucking subtle when in reality neither of them have a subtle bone in their body; and 3) me thinking way too much about this ship. 
> 
> Other warnings: Swears and allusions to sex. Hints of poor communication skills between a couple of adults in their 30s.

In his defense, John had tried to give her the whole ”lots of people need me, love is for tossers, and I’m not a one-woman-slash-man-slash-species-kind-of-guy” spiel, but in response she’d just rolled her eyes.

So really he wasn’t exactly sure where they stood.

Then they’d spent a highly, _highly_ enjoyable night together after being rudely interrupted in the tunnel. And then the night had sort of bled into the morning too, and he’d found himself, uncomfortably, a bit disappointed when she’d left to be with Behrad on the bridge.

And now he could see her dancing across the club wearing a leather jacket and skirt and fishnets. _Fishnets._ He had thought she’d be grossed out by the punk club, complaining about the noise and the grime and the “undesirables.” But she’d surprised him, like she always, infuriatingly managed to do. John considered himself to be a hard man to surprise, someone who’d seen some shit in his day. But Zari Tarazi had a way of bulldozing through his pride and defying nearly every damn thing he thought he knew. 

Indeed, she seemed to have leaned heavily into the punk aesthetic for the night. And if you asked him, it was working. I mean, _the fishnets_.

And looking at her, he was somehow even less sure of where they stood. Or where he wanted them to stand.

What he did know was that he was feeling lighter than he had in years (or at least since the few short happy months with Des). Astra was safe and apparently willing to tolerate his presence, if her decision to move into the House of Mystery meant anything. They had defied literal Fate. He had friends who might die from time to time, but they seemed to have a pleasant habit of getting resurrected with or without his help. Hell, he even had his soul back; he was fairly certain he would fuck that up again shortly, but he was willing to enjoy his un-damned status while it lasted. And, maybe best of all, the brilliant, gorgeous sounds of The Smell were filling up his ears.

But he was also painfully aware that no matter how good this particular moment felt, he was still John Constantine. He’d learned the hard way that the closer he got to someone, the stronger their tendency was to end up in a body bag (or even worse, in hell). He had to be careful. Especially with a woman so decidedly un-damned as Zari. Casual flings were one thing, but extreme caution needed to be exercised before he opened himself up to any type of more serious feeling. He knew better than to trick himself into thinking things could end up differently. 

And yet, even as he mulled this over, he felt himself walking over to her, slowly getting pulled into her orbit. He stole a beer out of the hands of a passing stranger, winking at them as they were still registering what had happened. He downed it, trying to push the confusion out of his head.

Before he knew it, he was a two steps behind her, moving his body to the glorious shriek of the guitars and watching the light bounce off her stupid, shiny hair that he knew now was soft and silky to the touch. He was pleased with himself for keeping a plausible distance from her; really, he told himself, he was dancing with the whole group and not just her, which was a completely normal thing to do. Even if he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off her. Her eyes were closed and she was moving perfectly to the beat and she was effing beautiful.

His senses were flooded with the sound of Charlie screaming into the mic over the speakers, all the alcohol he had drunk, the smell of sweat in the club, the way she looked, the memory of their bodies moving together, and just the Zari of it all. He wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her right in the middle of the club. He reminded himself that he should clarify what they were (or weren’t, really) first—wouldn’t want to give her and the team the wrong idea. And with the amount of time they were spending together, a public display of affection from him—the one and only John Constantine, master of the dark arts and cynical defier of demons and angels alike who didn’t give a shit about who he pissed off—would definitely give off the wrong idea.

But then she tossed her hair and smirked at him over her shoulder and he realized with an electrifying jolt that she was watching him too. Watching him watch her. The realization overloaded his system a bit, the way she could be fucking angelic and devious all at once. He was overwhelmed by how much he wanted her close and, before he knew it, he had wrapped an arm around her and pressed his body into hers. 

_Bollocks,_ he thought. 

Before he could really finish the thought, though, she smiled up at him and drew him closer.

_Fuck it,_ he decided, _Let them have the wrong idea. Maybe it could even be the right idea._

**Author's Note:**

> I think John has a lot of anxiety about his relationships and some of it very justified. And then some of it is just him pretending he’s cooler than he actually is. Also, as much as I love these two, I just do not see either of them being vulnerable and honest enough with each other or themselves in non-life threatening situations to have a proper conversation about what they’re doing and what they really want.


End file.
